For the new world
by Hellen says what's up
Summary: Female Enjolras (trying something here.) Enjolras poses as a young man so that she can make a life for herself as a leader of a revolution. The only one who knows her secret is Combeferre, but after a series of unfortunate events, Enjolras is forced to tell the Amis everything.
1. Just a normal man

The secrets that you keep

Female Enjolras (trying something here.) Enjolras poses as a young man so that she can make a life for herself as a leader of a revolution. The only one who knows her secret is Combeferre, but after a series of unfortunate events, Enjolras is forced to tell the Amis everything.

**My first 'gender bend' fic. I'm not sure where I'm going with this. No flames please! *wipes a tear***

**This is a tester chapter to see if it's worth writing.**

**English is not my first language :)**

Enjolras sat in front of her bedroom mirror, a brown cap fitted neatly on top of her golden curls. She grabbed her red coat that sat on the back of her chair behind her dresser and swung it over her shoulders. The coat disguised her shape well, which was one of the reasons she found she had to wear it. She also found that she was rather short for a 'man', so she wore chunky brown leather boots that added a couple of inches. She tucked a few lose strands of hair into her cap and took a deep breath in. She glanced down the hallway, to check her parents were asleep, and without another thought, she moved over to her window sill and swung the thing open with one arm. She then quickly stepped out of her bedroom, ducking her head as she exited (and since her room was on the bottom floor of the house, escaping was as easy as crawling through a hole.)

Enjolras didn't live too far from _Le Café Musian_. It was about a fifteen minute walk. The moon was shining bright out and the stars hung limply from the dark night sky. Miss Alexandria Enjolras had been playing the role of Monsieur Alexander Enjolras for the last year. No one ever suspected a thing of her…she was stronger than she looked and was fiercer than most grown men. The only problem was, as she got older, her beauty started to become a problem, and her body continued to change. She began looking more and more like a young maiden instead of the vicious fighter she so desperately wanted to be…the worst part of it all was that her parents kept pushing her to get married and have children…little did they know, she was spending most of her nights out with the friends of the ABC, planning a revolution against the monarchy. If only they knew…

Enjolras arrived at the dusty old café at around midnight. She was late (as usual) but it's not like it mattered. She did run the joint after all. She looked around at the buzzing school boys, drinking and singing together like old Amis should do. Enjolras licked her lips and placed two fingers in her mouth, making a high-pitched whistling noise which could have very well cracked a window. The noise shocked the Amis and they covered their ears, shaking their heads. Enjolras chuckled. "A simple hello would have been good enough." Courfeyrac said, sticking a finger in his ear to check it wasn't bleeding or anything.

"_Bonjour Mon Amis." _She said, tipping the side of her cap.

"Someone's a little tarty to the party." Grantaire said in a slurred tone, leaning back in his chair with his feet placed atop of a table. "Sleep in did you Enjolras?"

She rolled her eyes and ignored the man. "What news?" she asked.

"Well, we just found out that Marius is a virgin, if you call that news." Bahorel exclaimed, sending everyone into fits of chuckles, and making Marius blush bright red with embarrassment. He hid his face behind his book, pretending to read.

Enjolras stayed silent and rolled her eyes. "Not exactly the topic I had in mind." She tapped her foot on the wooden floor beneath her feet, impatiently.

"Oh calm yourself Enj'. Just because you don't like to have fun doesn't mean you have to strip everyone of theirs." Grantaire sniggered and sipped at his bottle.

Enjolras let out a long and rather exhausted sigh. "This is not a place for fun; this is a place for justice. We're here for a reason. This is not a social chat group. If you're just going to sit there and drown your brain cells in alcohol then I suggest you do it elsewhere." Grantaire rolled his eyes and mumbled something to himself, not moving from his position in the café.

The meeting continued undisturbed, much to Enjolras' happiness. She appreciated it when things went according to plan. Once the old grandfather clock struck three, Enjolras allowed her members to leave happily. As usual, she stayed behind to clear up the mess her Amis had made that night. As she cleared up some lose sheets of paper, she stifled a lazy yawn and realised she hadn't had any sleep in the last three days (since she'd been doing this for the last few meetings.)

Combeferre walked over to Enjolras who still stood by the table, packing up. Combeferre half-smiled and stood next to her, helping her out with some of the lose sheets of paper. "They're all gone Enjolras. You can take the cap off if you want." Enjolras smiled at her Ami and pulled the cap off her head, resulting in her wavy blonde hair falling neatly over her shoulders. "…You can't lie to them forever Enjolras."

"It won't be forever 'Ferre." She said with a smile. "I'll tell them…I just need to find the right time." Enjolras yawned and Combeferre furrowed his brow. "Sleepy…" Enjolras explained.

"You want me to walk you home?" he asked.

Enjolras smirked. "I've got to clean this up don't I?"

Combeferre shrugged. "I'll do it for you…you need to rest." Enjolras looked up at her best friend and grinned, adjusting his glasses for him.

"You'd do that?" Combeferre nodded and Enjolras gave him a friendly punch on the arm. "What'd I do without you 'Ferre?"


	2. The gamins

**Not been proofread. You have been warned.**

About a year ago…

"_I wish to fight for the right to be a free citizen! There is no justice in being enslaved by a society where the poor are treated as filthy rats and the rich live in luxury!"_

"_You cannot."_

"_Why must I not?"_

"_Because you are a woman, Alexandra! It's time you learnt your place!"_

My place is here…

"You…really think anyone is going to fall for this?" Enjolras asked, looking herself up and down as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her curly blonde hair which usually hung lose around her neck was tied back and hidden under an old brown cap Combeferre had borrowed (stolen) from his father. Most of what she wore belonged to Combeferre, such as the baggy white shirt, grey trousers and boots. The only thing that did not belong to him was the red coat that was swung over her shoulders. (The coat belonged to her grandfather who had given it to her in his will.)

Combeferre hummed, tapping his foot against the wooden planked floor. "I don't know…you're still a little too…beautiful…even without the makeup. You look like a sixteen year old." Enjolras rolled her eyes and hit Combeferre on the forearm with the back of her hand. "Perhaps they will believe that you are just an attractive young man with the elegance of a woman-"

"This is bloody ridiculous. No one is ever going to follow a pansy teenage boy with a pretty face!" Enjolras exclaimed.

Combeferre placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her from exploding. "It doesn't matter what they see…what matters is what they hear…what they feel. Trust me, the people will come, if you choose to call them."

…

Now…

"I don't understand women." Enjolras commented as she strolled down the street in her white laced dress made from sky blue silk imported from London...not that Enjolras cared for these expensive luxuries(her fashion sense was practically non-existent) . Her mother and father had suggested she get out of the house to get some fresh air. She was taking a short walk around the square with Combeferre who, unsurprisingly, was wearing the same clothes as the night before.

"That's an odd thing to say." Combeferre replied, a gentle chuckle touching his lips. "Perhaps you're getting a little too into your character Alexandria."

"I'm serious. Why is it that women have to force themselves to become the lower sex? Women are just as independent as men, and yet they seem obliged to become the less dominant in a relationship…or in any kind of social convention for that matter. It baffles me. Perhaps I'm just different to other women…" Whilst Enjolras was ranting, she almost tripped over her own shoes several times, momentarily forgetting how to walk in heels. "The worst part about it is that most women don't seem to mind. They just take every day as it comes, not wanting to take charge for themselves."

"I guess the world could use a good leader, and after all, men can't do everything." Combeferre shook his head at himself, personally amused. "For what it's worth Enjolras, I think you're a great leader, and I pray that one day, we shall be able to follow you without you having to wear this mask."

Enjolras smiled. "Well, I don't exactly see it as a mask. I see it as my other half." The two walked in comfortable silence for a moment or two, before Enjolras spoke again, a new strength intertwined in her voice. "You're a good friend Combeferre. I couldn't have made it here without you…thank you."

Combeferre shrugged. "Don't thank me yet Alexandria. This war for the new world is far from over."

Enjolras shook her head and sighed, "…Yes, you're right. Sorry."

"You don't need to do that either."

…

Eponine stood at the side of the cobblestone road, her arms folded in an informal fashion and her back pressed up against the damp stone wall of the old cigar shop that sat in the middle of the square. The young independent woman lolled her head back against the wet surface of the building and took a breath of agony as yet another day of her miserable life floated on by. She watched as the rich young men and women dallied about their usual business, whilst the 'others' scurried like mice, back into the dark where they belong. A familiar voice from behind her spoke, "Lost your head Eponine?" she turned to see young Montparnasse in his blue waistcoat (which was about five years old) and black cap. "Or perhaps you're just waiting for your life to end before it's even begun."

"What do you want?" Eponine hissed.

"Can't a friend talk to a friend without having to explain himself?" Eponine rolled her eyes at the man who was smirking to himself. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to wonder, as though he were distracted by something.

"What are you gawking at?" She asked the dazed man.

"You know most of the men and women of Paris do you not?" he asked, holding his hands behind his back innocently.

"Most I'd say, though, I don't care for the snobs. Why?"

"Do you recognise that woman?" Montparnasse gestured to the young lady standing on the opposite side of the street. She was rather tall and skinny with curly locks of golden hair that fell to her shoulders. Her dress brought out the colour in her sharp and icy blue eyes. Eponine sniggered at the woman, either out of disgust or jealousy…or both. "Well, do you?"

"No. I don't usually pay a generous amount of attention to rich young women."

"She looks somewhat familiar…"

Eponine hummed for a moment. She then said, "She reminds me of a student that Marius knows. I don't recall his name though…they're part of a group who are plotting to overthrow the government or something like that…Les Amis de l'ABC. Marius doesn't speak of it much."

Montparnasse clicked his fingers. "Right. The 'Les Amis'. I've seen them once or twice…that woman...she looks oddly like their leader, Enjolras…in fact the resemblance is rather astonishing…perhaps they are related."

"Why do you care so much?"

The young man shrugged. "I have a lot of time on my hands 'Ponine. It has to go somewhere...and we all know, I am but a man who likes the taste of trouble."

**Just a heads up, Montparnasse plays a larger part in this fic.**


	3. No one cares for the views of a drunk

**Not proof read (I'll do it later)**

**Writer's block. Might do a re-write**

"My parents accept me for who I am…but if they knew what I've been doing these past twelve months…" Enjolras and Combeferre stood by the side of the road, near the centre of town. It was nearly mid-day and the streets were practically clear. The clouds in the sky covered the beautiful sun with its greyness, blocking most of the daylight from view. They stood in silence for a moment, as the summer breeze walked through the streets of Paris. "My mother wishes me to get married and have children."

"Any mother would." He gave a nonchalant shrug, as though he didn't care much for the subject…but Enjolras knew he was listening. That's the kind of friend he was. He was always there for her…even when he didn't want to be.

"I hate to be the one to break her heart." Enjolras looked upon the ground, tapping her feet slightly against the cobble pavement. "You know as well as I do I'll never be able to have children."

"Just because you're carrying the weight of the revolution, doesn't mean you can't have a life of your own. Any man would be lucky to have you Enjolras. You can't take your own freedom away just because you're fighting for others." He cleared his throat and flushed slightly, though it was hardly noticeable.

"I pity the man who'd have to look after a woman such as me." Enjolras laughed to herself. "I don't care for love 'Ferre. I care for justice…freedom…for France. Unless the man is the living reincarnation of Paris itself, then he's not the one for me."

"…Well put." Combeferre smiled at his Ami and leant against the side of the wall. "Your mind and body is stronger than most men. I respect you for that Alex."

"...Thank you."

…

_Later that evening at Le Musian…_

Enjolras stood in the middle of the café, wearing her usual façade. Her hands were clenched tight into fists by her side. Les Amis stood around the table as she spoke. "It's time we started taking action to our cause. It's time we let the people know…but before we go any further, I have to ask. Are you all truly dedicated to this cause? If not then I suggest you just go home now. This isn't just a game…at least to me it isn't. I'm willing to die for the right of the people…and I want all of you to feel the same. My greatest wish is that all men who fight beside me, fight because they want to, and not because they have nothing better to do."

There was a moment of silence before Courfeyrac chuckled under his breath. "Enjolras, we're all on your side. You don't need to feel as though we're going to abandon you. The people are always in our hearts. Don't you ever dare think otherwise. We're all honoured to fight alongside a man such as you. Your passion for the revolution is what inspires us to fight for what we all believe in."

"Do you honestly think that we'd all be standing here if we didn't wish to fight?" Feuilly spoke with a smile on his face. Enjolras hummed as the Amis stood their ground. They all seemed to agree with the statement.

Though, there was one man who refused to stand. The man who sat silently in the corner, his bottle hanging limply in his left hand, his feet placed above the table top in an insulting fashion. "And what of you, Grantaire? Where do you stand?"

Grantaire blinked his eyes at the man and sniggered. "You know perfectly well where I stand."

"No, I do not." Enjolras crossed her arms and eyed the man, "Where do you stand?" she repeated.

"I stand with you." He replied.

"Well, you don't do the best job at showing it." She rolled her eyes.

"I said I stand with YOU. I however refuse to stand with whatever it is you're fighting for. I don't believe in what you do. I simply wish to stand with you, so that when the time comes, I can be the first man to say I told you so." He turned his head away from Enjolras to stare blankly out the window.

Enjolras couldn't help but feel insulted. "You cannot speak of the revolution as though it is a hopeless cause!"

"Oh, but it is. You see, you put too much faith within the people. Has it ever crossed your mind that the people may not come when you call? Have you ever considered the fact that the citizens of Paris might not even give a damn?" Grantaire spoke as though he'd been waiting to say this for a long time. "I have faith in you…but I feel nothing for the people."

Enjolras turned a bright red colour from the neck up. "First you insult my cause, and then you refuse to leave. What is it with you? Have you made it your life goal to just piss me off? Because you're doing a pretty fine job of it! I will not run a cause that contains cowards in the system!"

Grantaire placed his bottle on the table beside him and stood from his spot in the corner. Standing beside her, Enjolras could see Grantaire was much larger, probably much stronger than herself. "Coward? You're calling me the coward? I'm the only one here who's willing to face reality! Everyone else who stands in this room, they are the true cowards. They're hiding from the fact that death lurks beneath the barricade…but of course, Apollo doesn't give the slightest. He'd rather send all of his friends to their deaths, than face reality."

At that moment, for the first time in her life, Alexandria felt herself lost for words. Grantaire looked somewhat surprised; as though he'd expected her to fight back like the fearless, silver-tongued leader he was…instead she began to shake as his words sank in. She tensed and felt her heart begin to beat faster. Facing reality…had she truly been avoiding it…perhaps he was right…perhaps no one would come to the barricade…perhaps her whole life had been a lie…feeling somewhat embarrassed, Enjolras turned to the door and walked out, looking nowhere, but the ground.

…

She sat in the moonlight, resting on a bench that sat by the side of the pavement, her head in her hands as she sobbed. _Enjolras, you're being ridiculous _she thought to herself, _stop crying, now! You're doing this for the people! Not for yourself! _Enjolras wiped away her tears with the back of her sleeve. She couldn't help but feel guilty. What if her friends were all destined to face death? That would make her a murderer…this was just becoming foolish…_Don't let them see you cry Enjolras…don't let them see you cry…_

Suddenly, a voice behind her spoke, almost making her jump out of her skin. "Well, isn't this a pleasant surprise," Enjolras turned to see a tall young man in a blue coat with a maniacal grin on his face. "I'll be honest, I had my doubts…but, here we are."

"Do I know you?" Enjolras questioned, drying her eyes as fast as possible.

"Oh, where are my manners? It's Montparnasse, not that it matters." He chuckled a little, "And of course, I know who you are."

"How so?" Enjolras stood from the bench, glaring at the man.

"You…you're Enjolras. Leader of the friends of the ABC…though, it's strange." Montparnasse still had that nasty grin plastered on his face. It was annoying Enjolras to hell. "I seem to recall seeing a young woman in the centre of town…she was rather beautiful, I must say…though, she looked practically identical to…well you."

"What are you implying?" Enjolras questioned.

"You know perfectly well what I'm implying, Enjolras." He chuckled once again.

"I am no woman. It offends me that you'd suggest such a thing." Enjolras kept a straight face, though she couldn't help but feel the panic course through her veins.

"Don't play stupid with me. You're a woman! Don't try convincing me otherwise. I know." Montparnasse looked her up and down and hummed. "Eponine Thenardier knows who you are. She recognised you in the square this morning…and now I know who you are."

Enjolras cleared her throat and shook her head. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to know I have power over you. I honestly couldn't care less about what it is you're doing, posing as a man…but mark my words, if you don't do exactly as I say, I won't hesitate to tell everyone about your dirty little secret."

"You're blackmailing me…fine. No one would believe you."

"Once they find out you're a woman, it's your word against mine." He grinned at the notion. "Who would they believe? A young gentleman such as myself, or a lying, deceiving brat? Just watch your back Enjolras…watch it."


	4. can you keep a secret Grantaire

**Big thank you to all who reads this! We finally hit ten follows (Party time!)**

About a week later...

"Marius…Marius." Enjolras called from across the table. The boy blinked his eyes for a moment, as though he'd come out of a trance. He then realised that he'd been unconsciously staring at Enjolras for the last five minutes. Enjolras looked the man up and down, rolling up her sleeves. "Are you feeling quite yourself? Your mind seems elsewhere."

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He replied, a little too fast, awkwardly fidgeting in his seat at the table. "I'm just a little unwell."

"Perhaps you should go home. If you are to participate in these meetings, I expect you to be sharp and steady." Enjolras leant against the table top, studying the man, curiously. "You can't very well be on your feet if you're sick."

"No, no, I'm not sick. Don't worry about it. I'll be fine." He reassured, flushing slightly as every man in the room stared him down.

Enjolras didn't seem quite convinced, but none the less, she turned away from the subject. "Right, now, as I was saying, according to Gavroche Thenardier, our Great Lamarque is very much ill. He's grown old…and weak. Rumour has it, he won't last the rest of this month…" There was a dead silence as Enjolras closed her eyes in a moment of mourn. "…If that man passes, who would stand up for the people of France? Lamarque…he is one of the world's only hopes…but not even he can live forever."

"What do you suppose we do?" Feuilly questioned, a look of sorrow upon his face.

Combeferre stood beside Enjolras, as he usually did, his arms crossed and his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. "Well, if Lamarque, as you say, passes on, it would surely arouse a fire within the people…perhaps God intended this as an opportunity for them all to rise."

"…Perhaps you're right." Enjolras supposed, tapping her bottom lip with the tip of her thumb. "We must alert the people of Lamarque's sickness. They must learn, so that they will be inspired to rise with us…so when the time comes, we'll have them by our side."

"It seems that Lamarque almost intended this to become an opportunity…God bless that man." Prouvaire said with admiration. Enjolras nodded to him in agreement.

"I think that's about it for today." Enjolras glanced at the clock which read 11:00 PM. "We'll meet tomorrow, same time as usual to discuss our plans further. You may all go."

With that, the men slowly filed out, chatting to one another about politics, mistresses and alcohol. They stumbled out like the bunch of school boys the rest of the world saw them to be. Enjolras smirked and shook her head at her band of students. She saw them as wild dogs…train them right, and they could have potential to take over the world someday…though, once you let them off the leash, they ran around like a bunch of kids...but she knew in her heart that she loved them to bits.

Combeferre still stood by the meeting table, clearing up the lone papers that littered the surface of the desk. Marius, Courfeyrac and Grantaire still sat around a single table, drinking a few glasses of whisky and uttering about…whatever it was they uttered about…Enjolras couldn't care less.

As Enjolras walked towards the exit, Combeferre turned his head to her and called, "Do you need me to-"

"I can walk myself." She protested stubbornly as she shoved the wooden door open and stormed out in a mood of frustration. Combeferre raised his eyebrows at her.

"What's wrong with him?" Grantaire slurred, his feet resting above the table in front of him. Courfeyrac brushed some of the excess dirt off the table-top that had fallen from the sole of Grantaire's black boots.

"Perhaps he's still pissed at you for having a go at him last week." Courfeyrac shrugged.

"That was ages ago. He can't still be on that." Grantaire muttered, taking a sip from his bottle that hung limply in his left hand. "Besides…he knew I was joking around right?" Courfeyrac shrugged. "Speaking of pissing people off, Marius, why'd you lose your head today?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Marius replied, staring down at the floor and fiddling with his fingertips. Grantaire raised an eyebrow and chuckled deeply. "I did not lose my head!"

"You kind of did my friend." Courfeyrac remarked, tilting his chair at an angle, a smirk on his face. Combeferre tried to ignore their conversation as he continued to clear up the mess the others had made. "Seriously though Marius, what's on your mind? You can tell us. It's not like we'll go running to Enjolras with your secrets."

"Well… that depends..." Grantaire laughed once again, splashing excess whisky onto the floor. Combeferre rolled his eyes, knowing he was probably going to be the one to have to clean it up.

"Look…it's just…it was just something Eponine said to me earlier today that had be distracted." Marius blurted out, turning crimson from the collar to the roots of his hair.

"Oh, and what exactly did she tell you?" Courfeyrac asked with genuine curiosity in his eyes. Even Combeferre, who stood at the opposite end of the café, had stopped what he was doing to listen to what the freckled man had to say.

"Well, actually it's rather bazar… I was talking to her about how much I admire Enjolras as the leader of our rebellion. I think she got annoyed with me, and she ended up saying that Enjolras is simply a woman in a man's clothing." Grantaire choked on his alcohol as it went down his throat. Combeferre's eyes widened, though, he made no obvious act of surprise.

"Did she mean it literally, or was she making a statement?" Courfeyrac asked.

"I think she meant it literally. She was talking of a man, Montparnasse, or something like that. She said he was the one to figure it out. It's absurd, I know…but ever since she told me…" Marius turned an even brighter shade of red, "…I…I keep picturing him in a dress…as a woman."

"…Enjolras…a woman…what on earth?" Grantaire seemed to be muttering to himself. "Not possible…it can't be true."

"Of course it isn't." Combeferre insisted. The men turned their heads towards the man at the other end of the room. "In fact, simply suggesting it offends me to the very core."

"She seemed so certain though." Marius admitted. "Like she knew for a fact that Enjolras was a woman."

"It's…not impossible." Courfeyrac admitted. "Enjolras is rather…skinny for a man…his body is somewhat shaped differently compared to the rest of us, and he's practically got the face of a teenager."

"Will you stop this nonsense!" Combeferre demanded. "Do you really believe that our own leader would lie right to our faces? Do you really think he takes us for such fools?"

Everyone was silenced. Combeferre shook his head and sighed. "I…I suppose not." Courfeyrac finally spoke. "I guess we should be ashamed for even suggesting it."

* * *

Later that night…

Grantaire walked home, alone in the darkness, the only sound being his footsteps upon the cobble stone pavement. _Enjolras…a woman…what a daft, and yet understandable, idea. _Grantaire knew he wasn't 100% sober. At most he was 50%...but he actually found that his mind functioned better with alcohol in its system. It was strange but true. _Enjolras…who are you? If you truly are a woman, then why keep it from us for so long? Perhaps Eponine was just making things up… I don't know… _

Suddenly, Grantaire stopped in his tracks. He heard something…voices…echoes…he turned his head towards the whispers. They were coming from the darkness that lie within a pitch-black alleyway. He couldn't quite make out what the voices where saying. His curiosity got the better of him. He began to walk into the alleyway, using his hand to trace along the wall as he walked, being careful not to make a sound. He found that he was soon blinded by the darkness.

As he came closer, the voices became clearer. "I gave you fifteen hundred yesterday. You can't seriously be asking more of me." Grantaire heard a familiar voice say. _No…it can't be…_

"Now, now Enjolras. I'd mind my tone if I where you." Another voice replied. _Enjolras…what are you doing here? _Grantaire took a step back, hiding in the shadows, so not to draw attention from either of them. He couldn't see them within the darkness, but he knew they were close by. "Don't you forget now, I know something the others don't."

"You're pure evil Montparnasse. You can squeeze every single penny out of me until there's nothing left, but you cannot rid the fact that you're going to hell for your crimes."

Grantaire heard laughter as haunting as a ghost's cry. "My dear Alexandria, you're just as much of a criminal as I am." There was a silence. "Now, listen to me…if you don't want everyone to know you're a woman then I suggest you do as I say. You will come back here in two weeks' time and bring me another fifteen hundred. If you do not show, then I'll just assume you won't mind me shouting it out to the world…run along now…"

_Enjolras…you really are a woman…my God…_


	5. For heaven's sake

"I'll beat the living hell out of that Montparnasse." Combeferre groaned, throwing his jacket over his shoulders. "Honestly Enjolras, why didn't you tell me this sooner?!"

"Because I knew you'd act this way." She exclaimed, pulling at her own hair as he fumbled with the buttons on his jacket. "You can't fight him Combeferre! You may be the stronger man, but he's a child of the night. He's got a gang of miscreants. They'll rip you to shreds! This isn't your fight anyhow! I got myself into this mess and I plan on getting myself out of it."

The elder man spun on his heels to face Enjolras. "And what do you expect me to do? I can't just sit here and watch as he-"

"I expect you to trust me to take care of this on my own. I'm not as hopeless as I look…I just don't know what I'd do if something happened to you my friend…this isn't your problem, it's mine."

Combeferre looked her up and down and closed his eyes. "You better know what you're doing." Enjolras let a sigh of relief escape her lips. "If anything goes wrong, you MUST tell me. That's not a request, it's a condition."

"I know, I know."

* * *

Grey and black clouds painted the blue sky, sending light showers of rain down onto Patria, watering the world with its great tears. It was unusual to have such tasteless weather at this time of year…though; Combeferre liked to see it as some sort of sign…and after all, rain makes the world grow.

"I'll tell ya this, it ain't lookin' good. Doctors don't know what hit 'm." Gavroche frowned, pulling at his oversized cap which covered most of his hair. Combeferre stood outside Le Musian, leaning against the locked wooden doors. Gavroche stood by his side, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he fidgeted on the spot. The two of them sheltered themselves from the rain by the Musian doorstep, both of them taking comfort from the innocent pitter-patter of rain hitting the pavement.

"How much longer do you think he'll last?" he asked, trying to mask his voice of concern. "I mean…in the state he's in…"

"I'd say not more than a couple weeks." The young gamin replied. Combeferre choked at the notion, but corrected his posture soon after. "But ya know…General Lamarque's a pretty tough guy. He might jus' pull through."

Combeferre hummed as the corner of his lip turned up into a half-smile. "I admire your optimism Gavroche…but at times like these, I think it'd be best to stay a realist."

"A realist like ya' self, right? I get it…" Gavroche shrugged and kicked his foot against the back door of the Musian out of boredom. "Well…guess I'll see ya around then."

"Good talk." Combeferre smirked as the boy gave a cheesy salute in his direction and began his march back to the ditch by the river he liked to call home. He watched as the boy trudged through the muddy street, a smile on his face as he prepared to take on the world. Combeferre truly did admire that twelve year old. He was small and rather skinny from lack of nutrition…but he walked and talked like he owned the place. He had the courage of a lion, and he wasn't afraid to face the world. Gavroche was told to live on the streets to maintain a better life for himself…the first time Combeferre saw the gamin sitting by the side of the road, he'd thought to invite him into his apartment…but now, he seemed as though he didn't need it.

Even as Gavroche passed around the corner, 'Ferre could still hear him whistling like a bird. He shook his head and crossed his arms, trying to warm himself from the morning cold. He closed his eyes for a moment, to try and get his mind to rest.

Just as he was beginning to relax to the sound of the rain taking the wind, an ice-cold hand clamped around his right shoulder. In a moment of sure panic, Combeferre's eyes shot open and he made a noise of surprise, practically jumping from his own skin. "Henri Allen Combeferre, I have half a mind to murder you!" Combeferre took a moment to adjust his glasses as he stared awkwardly at the man who stood over him. Once his vision cleared, he realised the man standing over him was Grantaire, drenched in rain from head to foot, his face a bright crimson colour.

"What? Grantaire, what are you doing here, you're not drunk are you?" Combeferre pushed the man off of his shoulder and checked his silver pocket watch. "It's five AM."

"I'm not drunk! If I were drunk I wouldn't be spending my morning talking to YOU of all people!" Grantaire practically screamed. Combeferre took a step back, not really sure what to make of the situation. He'd never really seen Grantaire's sober side…and he wasn't sure what to expect. "Why didn't you tell me Enjolras is a woman?"

The man raised his eyebrows. "Are we really going over this again? Grantaire, Enjolras is not a woman, so stop insisting on it!"

"Don't play stupid with me Combeferre." Grantaire hissed, standing over him once again. Although Grantaire was the younger man of the pair, he was a good twelve inches taller. "I saw Enjolras talking to Montparnasse last night. He was threatening to tell all the friends of the ABC that she was a woman. I saw her giving him hush-money. Don't you dare tell me I'm wrong! I know Combeferre!"

The young medical student let all the blood drain from his head as he let out a laborious sigh. "Okay, fine, Enjolras is a woman, but you tell no one." Grantaire sniggered bitterly. "How did you know I knew?"

"Well of course you'd know. You two are together almost every time I see you…and it's obvious that you're the only one Enjolras trusts." Grantaire rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "And to think, I saw Enjolras as a man of steel…but no…"

"Wait, are you seriously saying that you disrespect Enjolras because she is a _woman_?" Combeferre asked, raising his eyebrows at the man.

"Christ, no! I couldn't care less what gender she was…hell, I'd take a bullet for Enjolras any day…what offends me is that she lied to all of us. I put my faith and trust in our leader, and yet, she's been lying to us all this time, playing us for fools. I thought Enjolras truly did believe in us, but in reality we were simply her puppets on strings." Grantaire crossed his arms, for once in his life, feeling genuinely betrayed. "For the sake of your 'cause', I shan't say a word to the others…but I shall not follow _her _any longer."


End file.
